


Not Strong Enough

by JacobsHunter



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Other, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 00:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19162501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JacobsHunter/pseuds/JacobsHunter
Summary: Staci was sure he'd never see them again. But when he did, it only made him realize how weak he was.





	Not Strong Enough

He couldn’t even look at them. His heart broke every time he was lead to their cage. He never wanted this for them. They should have left for Missoula and never looked back. He was pathetic, and he knew it. How could he think himself good enough for them when he was the reason they was even in the cage?

Jacob was talking to them. The rookie. Staci’s rookie. And Staci couldn’t look at them. He was so certain he’d never see them again. But then Jacob had said to help move the new “trainees” to the room, and Staci hadn’t hesitated to listen.

He froze, though, when he saw them on the ground with a Bliss arrow sticking out of their leg.

Now he didn’t know what to do. He had to get them out, but how? Jacob kept him by his side nearly all the time. Hell, Staci felt lucky when he was given a room in the basement of the veteran’s center, even if it was just a closet with a ratty mattress on the floor.

He wasn’t strong enough, though. He wasn’t strong enough to do what he had to for the person he loved. He wanted to get them out, but he was so scared that Jacob would catch on and kill both of them. Or torture them. He didn’t want the rookie to suffer because of them.

All too soon, the song was played, and Staci had to bite his tongue so hard he tasted blood as his lover went insane.

He was dismissed to his room, and he wasted no time going there. He couldn’t let Jacob or the Peggies see how badly this was affecting him. He couldn’t show weakness, or he’d be culled. And he didn’t want to die before he saw the love of his life free again.

He stepped into the small closet, and heard the door lock behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he half sobbed, leaning against the door. “I’m so sorry. I’m not strong enough, not good enough.”

He slid to the floor, the tears starting to fall. His chest ached with emotion, and he ran his hands through his hair. They deserved better. So much better. He was weak. And he knew it. He hid it as best he could, but he was weak. All he had to do was fly the damn helicopter. All he had to do was leave that goddamn flask at home!

He closed his eyes tightly, tugging on his hair. This was his fault. This was all his fault. They would have gotten out if he had done his fucking job. Fly in, fly out. That’s all he had to do. Yet he fucked up so badly. And now they would pay the price. The rookie had to be strong enough. He’d never forgive himself if they were culled.

He let out an agonized sound. He felt like his soul was being torn to shreds. His world, his everything, was being “conditioned” and tormented by a mad man. And he was too afraid to do anything about it. He was too much of a coward to put an end to it. They would kill, and they could die, because of him.

It was his fault. Even if they didn’t die, they would never be the same. Everything about them would change. He had changed. Would their relationship survive this? Or would he lose them forever? He wouldn’t blame them if they blamed him for ruining their lives. He wouldn’t even ask for forgiveness.

He didn’t deserve them, and he knew it.


End file.
